


Because You Are The Only One

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Developing Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Forgiveness, Lonely Sherlock, M/M, Nightmares, Pining Sherlock, Post-The Empty Hearse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 01:05:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2131299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The nightmares always happened ever since he ‘died’ by jumping off Barts Hospital. He hated that when Sherlock was awake, everything was fine. But, when he allowed himself to fall into the subconscious, his mind betrayed him and there was no way to stop it.  It was like going on a rollercoaster. When you climb to the top of the ride, you realise that there is no going back, the only way to safety is to allow the cart to fall and finish the circuit you started.</p>
<p>Based on the song "One" by Ed Sheeran.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you have not listened to "One" by Ed Sheeran go and do it now please because it is so beautiful ah.
> 
> Basically this is a bit of pining Sherlock to add to your day.

Dark, viscous liquid fills his surroundings. Goes up his nose. Clogs his throat. Chokes his lungs. He is dying. He is drowning. Submerged under water. He hears a scream of pain coming from outside the water. A man. A friend. Begging for help. He tries to free himself from the trap, but it is impossible. He is stuck. His muscles fail him. He is weak. He uses the last of his breath to shout. To beg for the screaming man’s forgiveness. But all that comes out is air in water. Bubbles rising to the surface of the sticky surface. There is nothing he can do. Both men are dying.

“JOHN!” The word tumbled out of Sherlock’s mouth before he could stop it. Sherlock jolted awake, then trying to calm himself down, slumped back onto his bed. His mind whizzing with the new found adrenaline.

The nightmares always happened ever since he ‘died’ by jumping off Barts Hospital. He hated that when Sherlock was awake, everything was fine. But, when he allowed himself to fall into the subconscious, his mind betrayed him and there was no way to stop it.  It was like going on a rollercoaster. When you climb to the top of the ride, you realise that there is no going back, the only way to safety is to allow the cart to fall and finish the circuit you started.

Sherlock turned his head to look at the clock. 6.34am. He normally got up around 7am when there was no case to take up his time, but he couldn’t trust his mind not to continue with the nightmare it so vividly played out, so he got out of bed and headed into the shower.

As the water flowed out of the shower head and gracefully dragged down Sherlock’s body, marking it with the gentle paths made by the water droplets, he tried to push the nightmare out of his brain. He wanted to delete it because it would take up a lot of valuable space in his mind, but the memory was too stubborn and vivid, that it just wouldn’t budge.

He got dressed, slumped down onto the sofa and scanned through the mass of emails that had been sent to him asking for his help and tried to find something that would be interesting enough for him to spend time on. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. So experiment it is then. Normally the thought of an experiment would bring him a bit of joy, but John wasn’t there to tell him to be careful and to make sure that he didn’t contaminate anything, made Sherlock oddly opposed to the idea of an experiment.

2 years ago Sherlock had jumped off that roof at Barts and coming back to find John proposing to his girlfriend had been a bit of a letdown. Sherlock thought he may have gotten a job and maybe a bit of a different life when Sherlock was away, but he was shocked to find that basically John had a new life. He was scared to think that John might not want to be his friend anymore and for a while he thought that might be true, he even had to ask Molly to be a substitute to John. Molly was less annoying than he expected, but there was still one thing missing. John.

...

A knock at the door halted his trail of thought.

“Yoohoo!” came a voice from the other side of the door. Mrs Hudson entered the room carrying a tray with tea and toast.

How long had he been sitting there. A quick look at the clock told him that he was sitting there thinking about John for at least 3 hours. Quickly brushing that thought away he greeted Mrs Hudson with a dignified grunt.

“I didn’t hear movement so I wondered if you were still asleep but then I thought that I better come up and check. How long have you been up?”

“A couple of hours,” Sherlock replied suddenly trying to appear interested in his phone so Mrs Hudson would leave him alone. He did love Mrs Hudson, but sometimes he didn’t want to waste his time speaking to her about pointless things, like what’s going on with Mrs Turner next door or boring stories about TV shows that were on the telly last night.

“Well okay. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.” She paused for a minute waiting for a reply, but when one didn’t come, she simply turned and left.

Sherlock drank some on the tea, mildly delighted by the feeling of the hot liquid rushing down his throat, and ate a corner of the toast. He didn’t feel like doing anything and, whilst hating to admit it, he sort of wanted Lestrade to call him and give him a crime to solve. But sadly nothing came. He lay back on the sofa and resumed his ‘thinking pose’ and delved into his mind palace in search of anything to make the time pass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here we go... I'll try to update as often as I can but procrastination is my top strength, so sorry about that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a really short, in between chapter about what was going on with John.

John was confused. His emotions were mixed up. At any given time he felt elated that Sherlock was alive, but also angry and frustrated that he would just lie to John like that. Two years. 730 days with no Sherlock. 730 times he woke up only to find that his best friend was still gone and was never coming back. Until now.

John lay in bed for hours, staring up at the plain ceiling. His mind was whirring and he couldn’t halt his thoughts long enough to fall into the escape that sleep would allow. He heard the gentle breathing of his girlfriend, well fiancée. He thought proposing to the love of his life was meant to make you feel ecstatic and breathless, yet he couldn’t bask in the feelings because of Sherlock. Bloody Sherlock.

Mary rolled over and snuggled into her partner. John could smell the honey shampoo which normally made him feel all warm inside, however today was different. He left Sherlock in such a rush and, upon reflection, he realised he was quite rude towards him. He did feel a bit guilty. But no. Sherlock bloody well deserved to be treated rudely. He killed himself in front of John’s very eyes. That was unforgiveable. Yet somehow he couldn’t work up the energy to make Sherlock feel unwanted because he was still his best friend.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Although he thought he should be thinking about his future with Mary, he hated to admit that the comforting thought that brought on sleep was in fact a slender figure with a mop of black curls giving John one of his very rare, yet genuine smiles. He felt himself drift off into oblivion.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for it being really short, other chapters will hopefully be a bit longer.

**Author's Note:**

> And here we go... I'll try to update as soon as I can but procrastination is my top strength so sorry about that.


End file.
